Egg Plant
by AmiliaPadfoot
Summary: Harry has an unexpected reunion with a certain family member that brings both old and new feelings to the surface. From Ginny and Harry's point of view.
1. Chapter 1

**Eggplant**

**(Could also be called 'You're Wrong')**

**By: Amilia Padfoot**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this Fic, only the idea for the story. **

**Summary: Harry has an unexpected reunion with a certain family member that brings both old and new feelings to the surface. From Ginny and Harry's point of view. **

**A/N: Ok this may get confusing so let me explain; whenever Harry or Ginny is alone the story will be written in 1st person, when together or with others it will revert back to 3rd. Hope it's not too confusing, I will try to make it clear. This is my first ever attempt at first person! **

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><p><em>(Ginny's POV)<em>

My heels clacked loudly as I marched back out into the car park. I paused, slightly startled as a lamppost suddenly flickered back into life. I was about to continue when I noticed something in the corner of my eye. There was something lying on the floor. Curiosity peaking inside me, I walked towards it. Dread flooded me as the shape on the floor came into view. I ran to the body, heart beating wildly. _No, Merlin, no! Please don't let it be him!_ I felt a surge of relief as I reached the body. Whoever it was, he was far too large to be Harry. I took a step backwards as the man rolled over and clapped a hand over my mouth as the smell of stale drink and vomit reached me. I turned away in disgust and noticed some shopping on the ground a few paces away. I walked over to it; I'm not entirely sure why. Bending down, I picked up the bag and gasped at the content. There was an umbrella - a broken umbrella - and an _eggplant_. Tears stung in my eyes as I remembered with a jolt that Harry wouldn't have gone out at all if I hadn't been so insistent on having Chinese eggplant. The recipe _had_ said Chinese. _Who cared really though?_ Does _it really matter if it was Chinese, Indian or bleeding Scandinavian? _It had mattered to me though. I had wanted everything to be perfect. I'm tired of not being as good a cook as my mother. No-one has ever told me as much but I can tell. Every time I have ever been the one to cook at family gatherings, my mother would always bring something along with her for afters, and I would be forced to watch as everyone tucked in gleefully, my desert forgotten_. No, that isn't entirely true_, I reminded myself. Harry would always try to eat a bit of both, and whenever I couldn't be bothered making desert when I just knew it wouldn't be eaten, he would always have seconds of everything else , as to be much too 'full' to have any desert. It was a clumsy attempt at making me feel better, but it had always made me smile watching him eat double of everything, while shooting me mock confused looks every time he caught me looking at him, as if he didn't know why. I blinked back the stubborn tears and wondered how I could have spoken to my husband so cruelly. Was it really his fault if had brought Indian instead of Chinese? Surely he had better things to worry about after a hard day's work.

I _had _specifically asked for Chinese though. I'd been having a really bad day, where nothing seemed to go right for me, and when he had come home with Indian instead, it had been the last straw. It wasn't the first time by any means that I have snapped at my husband or vented my frustration on him simply because he happened to be _there_, but it had been different this time. Usually, any insult or heated remark I made would just wash over him. He never got angry or shouted back; he would stay calm and let me shout and fume 'til I felt better. Sometimes he would just wrap his arms around me, tell me to calm down. If anyone else had told me to calm down when in a mood, I would have slapped them there and then, but with him my frustration and anger just evaporates. Harry would joke that it had more to do with him pinning my arms down with the hug then his soothing voice that kept him from being slapped, but I know better. Today, to an outsider, would have looked like any typical 'Ginny-Harry' argument, as I've heard them call it. He had let me rant and fume; he hadn't even flinched when I'd chucked the Eggplant at him in sheer frustration - but to me, it had been different. My words hadn't washed over him: he'd taken them, absorbed them. Even with his face fixed in the usual mask of calmness I had seen the hurt in his eyes. He had taken each word like a blow to the chest, and it wasn't till his back was out the door that I realised with a jolt that he had not hugged me.

I got up, leaving the eggplant where it was. It didn't matter anymore. How could it? What was the point in having a perfect dinner if he was not there to share it? I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to keep the cold at bay. Every step I took seemed to take so much work, my guilt weighing me down. _Where is he? _

(_About three hours previously)_

_(Harry's POV)_

I felt the beginnings of rain as I gripped the umbrella and sprang it open. Holding it tightly above my head, I picked up my pace. Dodging frantic shoppers as they hurried to get to their cars, I headed for the automatic door of the Muggle supermarket. As I quickly stepped aside to avoid getting hit by a heavily pregnant woman as she, rather violently, swung her exceptionally large handbag over her shoulder, several drops of water had began to run down my face. Looking up to see how this was possible I noticed a considerably large hole in the black umbrella. _Sigh_. Things just get better and better for me, don't they? I collapsed the blasted thing and walked faster, making a mental note to wipe my glasses when I get the chance.

_Finally,_ I hurried through the door, passed the dairy products and turned into the fruit and vegetable isle. _Eggplant, eggplant, where's the damned eggplant? Why do we even need eggplant! I already got an eggplant, didn't I? But OH no, it's not just any Eggplant - it's supposed to be __**Chinese**__ Eggplant. Urgh! Does it really matter? _I inwardly cringed at my own stupidity and mentally thanked myself for not saying that particular thought out loud to Ginny, because it obviously matters to her. And _that_ is why I'm out shopping, looking for a plant I never even knew _existed_ until today, at nine o'clock at night. After finally locating the plant and checking that it _is_ indeed Chinese, I grabbed some and hurried over to the till.

"Sorry love. Tills aren't working. You'll have to join the one down there" A rather large looking woman told me, not even bothering to look up, but just waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the till on the opposite side of the shop. I thanked her and made my way over to join the infinite queue that snaked its way round the corner and even into the bakery section. _Sigh, this is going to take forever._

As the automatic doors clunked behind me, I was immediately pelted by rain. It was getting dark, the shops car park hidden in a swirling haze of rain drops. I gripped the flimsy plastic bag and once again stepped out into the night, secretly glad to be out of the stuffy supermarket. The wind tugged at my coat, beckoning for me to go in the wrong direction. I ploughed onwards, planning to find a nice quite place to apperate home. Home: to my wife, my children, and to my friends that have came over with _their _children. Home: to my family_. Do I really want to go home?_ I pulled up my sleeve and managed to make out quarter to ten on my watch. It was then that the wind carried an incoherent shout to me. I looked up and through the rain saw something, or perhaps _someone_, staggering towards me.

"You!" I instinctively whipped around, expecting to see someone behind me. There was no-one there. I turned back round. The man was closer now. "It's you, isn't it?" The man's slurred voice echoed slightly in the now empty car-park.

"I think you've made a mi-" I began, but was cut off by more shouting from the inebriated man. "You, you freak, I know it's you!" The word freak brought back a wave of unpleasant memories and as soon as the word had left his lips I knew who I was looking at. My uncle took another unsteady step forward, making me take an unintentional step back that had once been instinctual. I mentally berated myself, I had stopped being scared of my uncle years ago and I'll be damned if I will be intimidated by him now. I made to walk past but was stopped as he grabbed me by the elbow. I couldn't help the slight prickle of fear, remembering a time when I hadn't been able to defend myself. "You ruined my life, you did." He spat.

"Well that's a shame 'cause you made mine simply wonderful" my voice dripped with sarcasm as I yanked his arm out of the bigger man's grip. My heart was beating feverously, threatening to melt my cold facade. He snorted.

"I gave you everything you deserved"

"I don't have time for this" I growled and started to walk away, yearning to just apperate home, only to stop in my tracks.

_"No one will ever love you!" _It had always been my uncle's favourite taunt. He had always known how to get to me, the best way to hurt me, and it seems that this has not changed even seventeen years later. I felt a sudden surge of utter defiance shoot through me as I spun around.

"You're wrong!" Before now, I had been forced to listen to my Uncle rant about me; I had not been allowed to contradict him, or even _move_, as he told me I was a freak and how I'd never be loved. I had not been able to fight back or to yell out loud as I'd so dearly wanted to when told these things. "You're wrong!" I yelled again, feeling a surge of pleasure at being able to voice the mantra I had once chanted in my head over and over again. "I am!" I was breathing heavily now. Inside me, a whirlwind of emotions, defiance, anger, doubts.

My uncle snorted again. "Are you now?" he sneered.

"Yes. I have a family! Something you never were!" I have no idea why I want to convince my uncle so badly. I owe him nothing, I do not have to prove myself to him and yet I feel I have to. A part of me wants to show him that he was wrong, that I can be loved. I felt a mad desire to yell at him and yet laugh in his face at the same time. I want to state that my uncle had failed, failed to break me, to turn me into the bitter man that I could so easily have become. I am not alone nor unwanted as my uncle had sworn I would always be. I have won. "I'm married, I have children, I am happy!" I yelled.

"You? Married? Don't make me laugh." And indeed he was beginning to. Anger bubbled inside me. _Is it really that hard to imagine me with a wife?_ "Cheating on you, I s'pect." I opened his mouth to retort furiously but no sound came out. _How dare he? How dare he suggest such a thing! He doesn't even know her._ The idea of Ginny ever being unfaithful to me seems utterly ridiculous and yet the words that were to form my response were diluted by a single memory of the night before last.

We had finally managed to find a day for ourselves, just the two of us. We had gone to a lovely restaurant that we had visited on our anniversary the year previously. The evening had been going well until Gethin Morgan, the only male player on Ginny's old Quidditch team, had came in and spotted us. Much to my annoyance Ginny just _had_ to insist on him joining us. At first I had been unsure about the handsome-looking acquaintance, but as the evening wore on, I had wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and strangle him. Gethin and Ginny had been busy catching up on old times, with Ginny _giggling_ away the whole time. I couldn't help but feel invisible. Who the hell was this guy? Coming in here and making my wife _giggle_. _Giggle_, since when did _Ginny_ giggle? She wasn't a girly girl. She didn't giggle, she _laughed_. I've always liked the fact that she didn't, but sitting there while the two chuckled at some inside joke I couldn't help but wonder why _I'd_ never made her giggle. Gethin hadn't left until for the first time that night, he had met my eyes, probably expecting to share a knowing smile, but had been met with a full force glare. The message 'Stay the hell away from my wife' was received loud and clear and Gethin had drank down his wine, made his excuses and practically ran out of the restaurant. Ginny had been strangely quiet after and the last thing she had said to me before we had gone to sleep was: "_Shame Gethin had to leave like that_"

I know this was in no way suggesting anything, but with the image of Ginny shouting at me only a few hours previously still fresh in my mind I can't help but ask the question: '_Does she really love me?'_ Thankfully, the more logical part of my mind kicked in. '_Of course she does!_' I tried yet again to yell back, to defend my wife, but was cut off by my Uncle.

"Children too, huh? Sure they're yours? I hope for their sake they're not. Don't want to be infected by your freakiness, do they?"

"I'm not a freak!" I yelled. Why is this happening now? I don't need the old feelings of doubt and self-disgust to come back. Not now. Not after I've worked so hard to forget my childhood, to stop blaming myself for everything, to settle down and have the family I had once been convinced I didn't deserve. I did not need the memories this man was bringing back me by simply being there. Months, _years _of convincing myself that I deserved to be happy, to do something for _myself_ for once, were all being washed away by wave upon wave of unwanted memories. The walls I had built up around me, built up by the love I had finally started to except, that kept the doubt creeping in, were beginning to crumble around me - _fast_. The rubble was crashing down on me, as my uncle gave a cold laugh.

"Yes, you are! You're- you're nothing but a freak! Can you blame us for not wanting you? Who would? No-one! That's who! You're loved, you say? Pity! That's all it is ..." The rubble was building up, higher and higher, surrounding me, closing in. I was being suffocated by my own protection.

"You're wrong!" I shouted again, but it was no use. The words have lost its meaning. The voice in the back of my deep subconscious, the one I had tried so hard to ignore came back to me. '_Is he, though?_'

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><p><strong>AN Please review and tell me what you think. I've been meaning to put this up for a while only to change my mind, and change it again, and then... well you get the idea. **

**P.S huge fan of Ginny, not trying to bash her in any way, they're just like any other couple havin' a bit of a rough patch. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. Well, here's chapter two, hope you enjoy. **

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><p><em>(Harry's POV, 1st person)<em>

_Is he though?_

I was running, fast with no sense of direction. I didn't look back once; I couldn't. I'd never run before. _From anything_. This wasn't like me. I can't understand how that one man can get to me so much, to make everything I had come to believe in, to have faith in, crumble within just one meeting. A meeting I wish had never happened. How I long to be able to turn back time, to never have met him: _at all,_ if I can help it. But I can't. I had learnt long ago - _the hard way _- there's not always a magical cure for life's problems. Heck, sometimes there just isn't one at all. As much as I had convinced myself, as much as I had believed in the happy life I had made for myself, I have always had doubts. The little pessimistic voice in the back of my mind that had been implanted in me from such a young age: that had once kept me from getting my hopes up, a survival instinct; was ever present. After the war was finally over, I had tried to ignore it - to banish it from my mind - and I had almost succeeded. Until now. Until I met my Uncle once again in the car park. Until I had heard every insult, every put-down from my uncle's mouth dance around in my mind, making my head spin. I had tried not to listen, to walk away, to ignore it, to counteract the darkness that was threatening to consume me with feeble, positive thoughts and reassurances. But even the old mantra, which had once brought me comfort, had kept me together through my uncle's rants, had failed. I had crumbled, and I had ran.

The rain lashed down around me as I slowed to a walk, breathing heavily. I didn't stop, though. I didn't dare stop moving, for fear of sinking to the rain-soaked ground in sheer exhaustion: mentally, physically, _emotionally_. I don't want to go home. Ginny would want to know where I've been. What am I to tell her? That I had run away like a little child? Not just from my Uncle, but from my fears, my doubts. _From the truth._ I had not been able to take it, to believe it, to think for a second that my Uncle could be right and yet I cannot stop myself. The so-called 'lies' pouring from my uncle's mouth had become my genuine beliefs once more, replacing all thoughts of happiness, suppressing them. Every memory that I could summon up to prove myself that my family loves me seems so _fake _now. I don't want to go home and see, as I know I would, just that. _The truth through the facade_. I do not want to see the pity in their eyes that I had once mistaken for love. I do not want to see the cold fury in my wife's eyes when I open the door, when she finds out that I have ruined yet another thing in her life. Perhaps if I had tried _harder_, if I had just been _better_. If I had spent more time with her, paid more attention to her needs - to my _family's_ needs. To me nothing is more important. How could I have failed so miserably? When was the last time I have gone to see my own sons play Quidditch? I had promised James to see his very first game, and where had I been? Stuck in a staff meeting. A stupid, pointless meeting. Had that meeting be worth the look of utter betrayal in my son's eyes? The disappointment? I had known even then that no matter how many games I was to see since, it will never change anything. The betrayal still lingered between us. I had let him down, and feelings like that didn't just go away. I have let _all_ of them down. Ginny, James, Albus, Lily, Teddy… _Oh Teddy_! When was the last time I saw my _Godson_? Come to think of it, when was the last time I've visited _any_ of my friends? To even stop by and say hi? I'm always so wrapped up in work. In meetings, paperwork, raids, missions that could last from a day to a month. Do my kids resent me for spending so little time with them? Or perhaps… where they glad? Were they relieved when I had left? Every time I leave for work does Ginny feel _freer_? I don't know. _I'm so confused._ I can't tell whether I should try to spend more time with my family or leave them all together. I felt hot tears sting in the corner of my eyes. Would they be better off? Would they miss me? _Do _they miss me? _Have they even noticed I've gone?_

_(Ginny's POV, 3rd person)_

"Ginny, just calm down and _breathe" _

"Calm down? _Calm down?" _Ginny hissed, as she turned on who was, supposedly, her best friend.

"How am I supposed to _calm down_? He could be _anywhere_! Something could have happened to him! _Anything_ could have happened to him! He could be hurt or- or-" Ginny's voice broke and she turned away from Hermione.

"Are you sure he wasn't at the supermarket?" Hermione persisted.

"Of course I'm bloody sure! He left his shopping on the floor for crying out loud!" Ginny screeched, throwing her hands in the air. She tried to take deep breaths, to calm herself, but she knew it was no good. Harry was the one who was always there to calm her. His mere presence was usually enough to make her head clearer. But he _wasn't_ here and she was beginning to panic. Harry _was_ an Auror, after all, and adding that to the fact that he _was_ Harry Potter meant there was plenty of people out there who would love to hurt him.

"But that's a good thing, isn't it?" Hermione soothed.

"What!" Ginny snapped. "How is that a good thing?"

"Well, it shows that he actually _went_ to the supermarket," she reasoned "So whatever happened on the way back gives us something to go off at least". Ginny was about to furiously retort that it wasn't much, but she stopped herself on seeing how pale her friend had become. Her eyes were filled with worry and dread. Ginny nodded instead.

Both girls spun round, jumping slightly as the door creaked opened and Ron stepped in, looking just as pale as his wife, the same distant look in his eyes. They waited with baited breath, unable to stop the hope rise in themselves only to be deflated as he shook his head.

"He's not at the Burrow, Godric's Hollow, Teddy's house… he's looking from Harry too, by the way-"

The girls nodded. _Poor Teddy_, Ginny though. It must have been a shock for him having Ron come in like that and tell him Harry was missing. Everyone knew how close the two where. Teddy would be shattered if anything happened to him.

"-Grimmauld place, none of his usual haunts… or even St Mungos" Ron rattled off.

Ginny felt slightly relived at that. St Mungos was the one place she'd hoped he _wouldn't_ be.

"How about the Ministry?" Hermione asked in desperation. Ron just shook his head and Ginny buried her face in her hands. Hermione put a comforting arm around her, shaking slightly herself.

"I _did_ bump into Kingsley, though," Ron continued, sounding like he had aged several years. Ginny looked up hopefully.

"Can he send Aurors out to search for him?"

"He said it hasn't been long enough for him to send out a search party." Ginny groaned in frustration. "But they're out searching anyway"

"They are? Ginny asked sceptically. The ministry _was _known for its rules and regulations after all.

"They're doing it willingly, Gin. Harry means a lot to them. Even Kingsley's keeping an eye out" Ron smiled slightly, thinking only Harry could get most the Auror squad and the Minister of Magic himself out looking for him _willingly_ after only four hours.

"See? We'll find him in no time." Hermione squeezed Ginny's shoulder reassuringly while trying, and failing, to sound optimistic.

"If he wants to be found" Ginny muttered.

"What? Ginny, 'course he does" Hermione reassured her, frowning slightly. Ginny shook her head as a tear escaped down her cheek.

"What if he doesn't want to come home?" she asked, her voice scarcely a whisper and sounding more like her eight year old daughter than herself. Hermione moved out the way as Ron wrapped his arms around his sister, enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Don't talk like that, Ginny. We're going to find him and if he's not coming home on purpose I'll personally kick his arse" Ginny smiled a little despite her tears and Ron continued. "Besides, Harry wouldn't just take off like that" Ginny's smile faded and she pulled her-self out of her brothers grip, turning her back on him.

"You don't know that." Ron opened his mouth but Ginny cut him off, her voice rising slightly, tears tracking down her face. "You weren't there Ron. You didn't see me yelling at him."

"You've yelled at him loads of times, Gin-" Ginny cringed at that. Did he _have_ to remind her? "-and he's never taken off before."

"That's just it, though, isn't it?" Ginny turned back to him suddenly, her eyes blazing. "I've 'yelled at him loads of times'" she quoted, her voice marred with self-spite. "What if it finally got to him? What if it was one argument to many? What if he's fed up? And you know what? I don't blame him! I don't blame him for leaving me after the way I've –I've-", her voice grew steadily stronger and more hysterical by the second, the tears unstoppable. She choked before taking a rasping breath and continuing, "You didn't see his face! You didn't see the hurt in his eyes!" She was practically yelling, Ron and Hermione were staring at her looking startled, concern shining in their eyes. "_I_ did! And _I_ caused it! Maybe if I'd been more… more understanding! Just hugged him or- or told him it didn't matter. Why did I have to shout at him like that instead? It's just some stupid plant! And now he's _gone_! And he _didn't _hug me!" She was sobbing now, uncontrollably, her brown eyes flashing under her flaming fringe. "What if I never get to hug him again? I never told him that I loved him! When was the last time I told him? I can't even remember! He doesn't know!" She sobbed harder as both Hermione and Ron went over and held her.

"Shhhh, shhh. We'll find him. You can tell him then." Ron soothed. She shook her head into his chest.

"He hates me"

"Ginny," Hermione sighed, "It's impossible for Harry to hate you. I know you two don't always get along, but you're good together. You _belong_ together. Your fire and he's water. You're the complete opposites and you just can't exist without each other. We've always said it. Yes, you may yell at him a lot, but that's just the Weasley temper." Hermione reminded her, stroking her hair comfortingly. Ginny nodded sniffing slightly. "He _loves_ you! He's not going to stop because of some stupid argument, and besides - do you think he would just leave you and the kids like that? This is _Harry_ we're talking about. He's not going to leave his children without a father."

"I know your right. It's just-" but Ginny was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen door opening.

"Al? Why aren't you asleep?" Ginny asked her son as he walked into the room in the emerald green pyjamas Harry had got him for his birthday. Albus rubbed his eyes tiredly. They were read and puffy from crying.

"Is dad home yet?"

"Aw, sweetie! No, not yet" Ginny quickly wiped her eyes and face before going over to hug her son.

"Why isn't he home yet? Is he ok?" Ginny and Ron exchanged glances. Ron could tell she was struggling.

"I'm sure he is. Your dad can take care of himself mate. You know he can." Ron reassured his nephew. Albus nodded, but didn't stop looking troubled. He wasn't as used to Harry being out at ridiculous hours and being gone for days like James was. Things had settled down in the Wizarding world before Albus was born and Harry only had to go on the occasional long mission and a few night shifts. It stood to reason that he was slightly shaken that his dad hadn't come home, especially after his mum yelling at him and him leaving so abruptly.

"He's coming back isn't he? He hasn't left us, right?" He looked up at his mum, wide-eyed, clearly dreading the answer.

"No, he hasn't Al. Don't think like that. Your dad would never do that, ever!" Ginny told him fervently, holding him tight and stroking his hair.

"He's not mad at _me, _is he?" he murmured into her chest.

"_No_! Heavens no, Al" Ginny gently pulled Albus away from her and lifted his chin up so she could look it to his eyes. Her husband's eyes. "Why would you think that?" Albus just shrugged and Ginny knew it was the only thing that made sense to him. He was clearly confused and she cursed herself knowing it was her fault. All her kids had seen her argue with their dad. James was used to it and Lily didn't understand but Albus had always been the most empathetic one and she knew the arguments had affected him the most. It didn't help that he had inherited his father's tendency to blame himself for things.

"Al, listen to me. Your dad is not mad at you and he has most certainly not left us. He's going to be home soon, so why don't you go to sleep and you can talk to him in the morning, yeah?" Albus nodded, looking marginally reassured but exhausted. Ginny swore that if she could just get through this night, if she could just find Harry, she'd make it right. She'd make a point of not arguing in front of the kids. Something she should have done years ago.

Once sure Albus had gone to bed, Ginny returned to the kitchen, a new sense of determination about her.

"I'm going to try and contact him again" She declared, lifting her wand and closing her eyes, thinking of her happiest memory… her wedding day.

"_You may now kiss the bride," Harry turned to her and slowly lifted her veil. _

"_I love you, Ginny Potter." He whispered softly in her ear before cupping her face in his hands, leaning down and covering her lips with his in a deep and passionate kiss that had made her tingle. _

"EXPECTO PAT-"

"No, wait!" Ron cut her off, his eyes now alert, hopeful.

_"I've got a better idea"_

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><p><strong>Please review! Anyway, thank you for reading this!<strong>

**Oh yea, haven't I thanked Drammy for bettering this yet? I am most remiss. **

**Here goes: THANK YOU. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N hello! Here's chapter three!**

_This chapter is dedicated to These guilty pleasures for the amazing enthusiasm. _

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><p><em>(Ginny and Harry's POV, 3rd person)<em>

_"__I've got a better idea"_

Ginny apperated into the deserted road of the Muggle town, clutching the Deluminator to her chest. She closed her eyes and once again heard the sound of her husband's soft sob in her mind. The light that had gone into her tingled through her now, telling her she was close. She could smell salt in the air and she knew she was close to the sea. She opened her eyes again and peered through the rain that was slowing to a drizzle; in front of her was gravel that seemed to stretch for miles on end before hitting a tall wall. She had been here before, and she shivered remembering how drawn Harry had been to this particular place. Sure enough, she could just about make out the blurred figure of a man sitting on the wall. She knew, without a doubt, who it was. She started to walk towards the figure only to find herself running full pelt towards him, remembering what lay on the over side of the wall.

_"No! Harry, don't do it!" _she cried out to him, stumbling on the gravel. She steadied herself then began to run again, her heart beating wildly. She didn't stop until she hit something solid. She started to stumble back: she couldn't stop now; she needed to get to him, but stopped when she felt two strong arms encircle her.

"Ginny, Ginny! What's wrong?" The sound of her husband's muffled voice washed over her like the waves below. He was ok, he was alive, and he was in so much trouble. She pulled herself out of his hold.

"What's wrong? What's _wrong_!" she screeched. "What were you _thinking_? Didn't you think about what it would do to us? To our children? You might as well be taking us with you! How could you?" She was yelling, breathing heavily, rubbing her hands over her face.

Memories were bombarding him one by one. He could hear his uncle's voice shouting in his head, pounding in his ears,

"_What were you thinking you stupid boy! Can't you do anything right! We give you a home, food, clothes and this is the thanks we get, you ungrateful little-" _

"_I hate you! We all hate you! You deserve to-"_

"Please...stop yelling…" Ginny's head snapped up and she instantly regretted raising her voice. Harry had backed up against the wall, trembling, tear tracks running from his eyes. And his eyes- his beautiful eyes- were no longer the twinkling vivid green, but had been replaced by a darker, haunted look. What had happened to him? Had she really affected him that much? Had she _broken _him? All the past arguments they had had came flooding back to her:

"_Oh for crying out loud, Harry! I told you to pick me up at ten past five not five past ten!" _

"_What's wrong with you? I spent ages cleaning that!"_

_"I asked for Chinese! CHINESE! Can't you even get that right?" _

She remembered overhearing Ron asking Harry, after a particularly nasty argument where she had yelled for hours and he had merely shrugged it off,

"_How do you cope with her yelling at you all the time mate? How do you just shrug it off like that?"_

"_I'm used to it. My uncle used to yell a lot"_

Was she as bad as his uncle? Did she remind Harry of his _uncle_? She pushed the thoughts away and carried on more softly,

"You can't just leave us like that. You can't just throw away your life… like that." Harry just blinked at her, still looking startled, but relieved that the yelling had stopped.

"Throw away-" his eyes widened in shock as realisation hit him. "No, Ginny, I wasn't, I wasn't going to- Ginny, I was just sitting here. I wouldn't do that. I can't." He spluttered, releasing his hold on the wall behind him and stepping closer to her. Ginny sighed in pure relief and though slightly ashamed that she thought her husband was trying to kill himself, Ginny couldn't completely blame herself for thinking it. She had never seen Harry look so rattled before, so vulnerable.

"Harry, where have you _been_? We've been so worried! We were looking for you everywhere." She breathed.

"You were?" He failed to hide the surprise in his voice.

"Of course we were! Hermione's a total wreak, Ron's walking around like a zombie and Teddy- he's going crazy with worry." Harry was in complete shock. They _had _noticed, they did care. How could he have thought otherwise? "The whole Auror department is looking for you!"

"What? I- they can't be! It hasn't been long enough! Has it?" _How long __**had**__ he been gone?_

"They're doing it willingly. They're your men, they care about you!" Ginny's voice echoed in his mind as a small smile played over his lips. '_They care about you._' _They __**care**__ about __**me**__._

"They just don't want Smith to take over." He joked weakly, unable to comprehend how he could forget about everything he had come to believe in so quickly. How had he forgotten that he had people who cared about him, that would miss him if he was gone, so easily?

Ginny couldn't help feel calmed, seeing him joke, but it didn't stop the worries flying around in her head.

"But really, where have you _been_? You weren't leaving, were you?" Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"No! Ginny I would never just..." he trailed off, remembering that he had in fact been thinking of disappearing, to leave his family to their lives - hopefully much better off without him.

"You wouldn't leave us?" Ginny prompted. She had noticed the faraway look in his eyes as he trailed off, unable to meet her eyes; It unnerved her greatly.

"I thought about it." he admitted quietly, hanging his head.

"What! No! You- you can't!" Ginny was beginning to panic. She had finally found him, only to find she was losing him. She was finding it hard to breathe as she continued, "I get that you would want to leave me-" but she got no further as Harry embraced her, hugging her fiercely. She could feel him shaking, his heart beating feverously against her chest. After a while he pulled her away from him, but didn't let go of her, gripping her by the shoulders. Ginny looked up and their eyes locked, Harry's eyes blazing passionately as he gazed into hers.

"Ginny, no!" he breathed. "Ok, yeah, I thought about it, but I don't want to! Merlin, I don't! It would break my heart to leave you, Gin. To leave the kids!"

"So don't then!" she begged.

"But wouldn't that be better? I wouldn't keep ruining things for you... I wouldn't keep letting you down." He reasoned, a tear falling down his cheek. Ginny could see the pain behind the flames in his eyes. She could tell he was being ripped apart inside, and she finally understood. He wasn't fed up with her, he honestly believed he she would be better off. It was Dumbledore's funeral all over again, only this time she was not giving in.

"Better! You honestly think my life would be _better _without you! You're mad! I would be crushed! And so would the kids! We _need_ you Harry._ I_ need you!" Her eyes shone with tears as she spoke, passion and sincerity in every syllable, and she said what she had should have said sooner, more frequently, what she had been terrified she'd never be able to say to him again - "I love you!"

Before she knew it, they were kissing, their lips against each over, holding each other, water and fire entwined. Husband and wife. Their tears running into each other. She ran her hands through his untameable hair, tingling as he caressed her. They kissed amorously, passionately, their lips moving in sync with one another. They were a couple standing in the pouring rain, the sea smashing against the wall below, loving each other. Ginny pulled away still trembling slightly and she continued as if the moment spontaneous and wild passion had never happened.

"I know I haven't always shown that. I kept yelling at you for the smallest of things. But I thought it was ok. That it was just normal arguments, all couples have them, that you were ok with it, you could handle it. I never thought about how much it would hurt you." She confessed.

"No, it's ok. I don't mind. Your just venting your frustration, we all do it." He reassured her.

"No, it's not ok." She snapped, slightly impatient. Didn't he get it? Didn't he understand that what she did was wrong? "I shouldn't have treated you like that. I'm sorry. It's not right. _You_ were."

"I- What?"

"Every time we argued you would always tell me to calm down, that we should go into another room, that we're scaring the kids. And now they're really scared Harry. I never thought how any of this would affect them. I'm a terrible mother." The words tumbled out of her, unstoppable.

"No, Ginny, you're amazing. I'm the terrible one! I'm never there for them!"

"What! Harry how can you say that? Who caught James when he fell out of that tree? Who stayed up every night with Lily when she had all those nightmares, even though you had work in the morning?" she demanded. "Who cheered Al up when he got dragon pox, only to end up with it yourself? Who was the one that-"

"Ginny, Ginny I get the idea." Harry cut her off, unable to stop the smile playing on his face. He grew serious once again and he sighed, looking like he'd aged a year. "I think we've both screwed up Gin. Not just with the kids, but with each other."

"How did you screw up with me?" Ginny asked looking her confusion. "You're always so patient with me. I can't remember the last time you've even yelled." she reminded him. Harry sighed again and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Ginny was glad to see the tears had stopped but she could help her heart beating wildly, nor the own tears in her eyes as she remembered a quote from her favourite book,

'_It was strange how when lovers say goodbye they take all the blame'_

"I haven't paid you enough attention Gin" he explained heavily, avoiding her eyes. Ginny opened her mouth to disagree but he cut her off, his voice marred with self spite.

"Aw, come on, when was the last time I kissed you? And I mean _properly_. When was the last time I held you without the necessity? I mean randomly, _spontaneously_. When was the last time we… _you know_?" Ginny felt herself blush slightly. "Or the last time I took you out to a meal?"

"Two days ago!" she shouted, glad to finally have something to counteract his guilt with, proof that the thoughts in his head were not true. She wasn't giving in without a fight. Harry gave a humourless snort of laughter.

"That wasn't a meal."

"Yes, it was!" she yelled back desperately, slightly to convince herself as well.

"I didn't eat _anything_ Gin! You didn't even talk to me! You were so busy with...with _Gethin_" he said the name with as much spite as he could muster.

"Oh my Merlin, you were _jealous_?" she asked wide-eyed, her heart skipping a beat. She couldn't help the pleased feeling that was coursing through her. She had been so disheartened by her husband's lack of response throughout the whole meal.

"Of course I bloody was!" he yelled, his eyes flashing, "How could I not be with the way you two were _giggling _away with each other! So _happy_ to be in each other's company? And how is that you don't giggle round, me huh? I don't make you happy, do I?" he demanded spitefully, not even bothering to hide his jealousy. He knew he would be ashamed later for acting like a jealous little school boy, but right now he didn't care. She had hurt him. Now he knew he hadn't deserved the way she had treated him, it was a lot easier to be mad.

"Oh Harry!" Ginny cried flinging her arms around him, startling him. "I never knew. I _swear, _Harry, I hated every moment with him. He's just so _boring,_ and _tedious_! Harry, I was _giggling_. You know I don't giggle"

"At least not 'round me." he huffed, gently pulling her away so he could look at her. He found his anger ebbing away despite himself as her chocolate eyes found his. Her eyes sparkled with glee, a smile spread across her full rich lips,

"Because you make me _laugh_! He didn't make me laugh that night, did he? Nobody can make me laugh the way you do." She reached up to brushed his fringe out of his eyes but stopped mid-movement as he saw his eyes darken, the brief sparkle at her words, fading. She felt herself slipping out of his grip… he was letting her go.

"You trying to make me jealous? The whole time?" his voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried over the sound of the sea crashing below, twice as destructive.

"I just wanted to know, to get a response out of you, to get you to show some emotion!" she confessed, desperation showing through her voice. Her eyes searched his, silently pleading for him to understand. She had to know. He had been so distant with her and she had been so scared of losing him. Gethin had seemed to be the perfect opportunity, just a reckless and spontaneous stab at getting him to see what he was missing.

"I show emotion!" he protested, his voice still low, harbouring a cold edge to it.

"No you don't! You keep it all locked away, you mask it. You've bottled it up and now look what's happened." She knew she was pushing him, her heart beating wildly, at was if dealing with a ticking time bomb. One mistake, one remark, one comment too far...

"Oh, and bottling it up is so much better that _your _method?" he retorted sarcastically, almost harshly. She winced. She knew he had every right to be mad. She hadn't cheated on him, she would never in a million years do that, but she knew it was still a betrayal to him. She took a deep shaky breath. She had to keep going. She had to see it through, she couldn't lose him. They were standing barely an inch apart but she had never felt so far away from him, as if with every passing second he was slipping out of her grasp, fading away.

"Ok, I deserved that. You have every right to be mad at me."

"Thank you for your permission" Ginny winced again. She hated this cold side to him, the side she rarely saw, especially directed at her. The silence was deafening. She almost wished he'd just start yelling.

"You should have been mad at me today." She told him, the words leaving her lips before she could stop them. "I wish you had been"

"Huh?" he asked, clearly caught off guard by the change in direction.

"Harry, don't you think I would prefer you yelling back at me than you just… walking out on me?" Harry's eyes grew wide and Ginny sucked in her breath. This was it...

"_Ginny_! I did _not_ walk out on you! I went to the supermarket! To get the eggplant-thingy!" Ginny visibly relaxed, relief washing over her. Then she suddenly remembered,

"Yeah, I went to the supermarket, Harry. I found your shopping on the floor." The whole day replayed itself in her mind. Harry coming home, her yelling at him, waiting and waiting for him to come, finally finding him, tear tracks down his face. "Harry, what happened? Why didn't you come home?" she asked softly. He looked away from her avoiding her eyes. Ginny's eyes narrowed in concern as she gently but firmly steered him towards the wall and sat him down. She sat down next to him. Neither of them spoke; even the waves seemed to calm to a gentle hush.

"I didn't want to. I couldn't." He whispered, breaking the silence.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I was confused. I couldn't make sense of anything. I was- I guess I was scared." He admitted, and Ginny knew it had cost him a lot to say it aloud. She was amazed that he could still open up to her after everything that had happened.

"Scared? Of me yelling at you again?" she asked trying to keep the guilt out of her voice. Her self-pity wasn't going to help him.

"Partly" he conceded. She shot him an apologetic look and he gave her the smallest of smiles in return. "But really I just didn't want to see the truth. So I ran from it instead" He hung his head, clearly ashamed.

"Truth? What truth?"

"I didn't want to see the pity in all your eyes or the disappointment in James's or the hatred in Albus's, or the..." but Ginny cut him off. _Where on earth is this coming from?_

"Harry what? What do you mean _pity_? We don't pity you, it's physically impossible for Albus to hate you - and we've been through this, Harry! He doesn't resent you for not being there!" She reassured him, referring to the many arguments they had had when he had told her of his fears that James would never forgive him.

"I know. I know that now." He told her, giving her a reassuring smile. Ginny was glad to see his eyes were considerably lighter.

"_Now_? Harry, what on earth made you _start_ thinking it? Come on, something must have happened for you to start believing all this. Where _are _you getting all these ideas from?" Harry's eyes darkened again and he looked down. Ginny sighed. Harry had always been hard to get through to. You had to literally pry him open, and keep on at him for him to open up even a little. He shook his head,

"It's stupid, Gin. It's just- it's nothing. I feel so stupid for letting myself break down like this and making you guys worry. I can't believe I just gave up after everything I've come to believe in. I'm sorry Ginny."

"Harry…" He looked up at her. "What aren't you telling me?" Harry allowed himself to look into her eyes and immediately became lost in them, a sense of calm washing over him, and before he knew it he was telling her everything. Of how he saw his uncle, how all the memories had come back, how he had let his uncle get to him, how the familiar words from his childhood had infiltrated him, contaminating his beliefs, making him lose all sense of himself.

"...And I just ran Ginny. I _ran._"

"_Shhh. _It's ok" she comforted him, holding him close, his head resting on her shoulder. "It's ok, Harry. I don't think any less of you, no one would. He's put you through so much. You didn't have to just stand there and take it. You don't have to do that anymore, you have the right to run, and you have the right to actually be human! We're all entitled to our weak moments. Even you." She felt him nod into her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair before whispering in his ear,

"_Come on love, let's go home_"

"How can I?" He asked, his voice muffled, "Like this? What am I going to tell everyone? That I ran away from my uncle because I couldn't handle what he was telling me?"

"Harry, no one's going to care. They're just going to be relieved to know you're ok."

_And so they stood, and began their journey home._

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><p><strong>Please review! Last chapter should be up soon! Well, hopefully. –Ami. Also Ginny-T-Potter:<strong>

**I couldn't reply to you so Thank you for your review and as to your review on my other story, I haven't! I'm trying to get it back up again. **

**And, 'Not a person' –well I'll let the update itself be a response. **

Neeecole66- I've tried but I can't find them! Guess that's why I have a beta. If you want to point them out be my guess otherwise...

'_It was strange how when lovers say goodbye they take all the blame'- not a direct quote as Ginny's not a 'he' but it's from the epilogue of Sharpe's Eagle by Bernard Cornwell, perhaps not Ginny's favourite book but certainly mine. _


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Last chapter! I've really enjoyed writing this. This has been an experement for me, writing in 1st person. Let me know how I did. I hope you liked it! **

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><p><em>(Ginny and Harry's POV, 3rd person)<em>

_And so they stood, and began their journey home._

"_Harry_!" Hermione's shriek was the first thing he heard as he stepped inside the cramped kitchen, followed closely by Ginny. Hermione got up to fling herself at him, but was beaten by Teddy, who enveloped Harry in a bone-crushing hug.

"Dad, you're ok!" he cried, ignoring Harry's look of surprise that had appeared when being addressed as 'dad' by his godson. Harry quickly recovered as his face broke into a grin and he returned the hug, feeling for the first time in a while that he was glad to be home. That was, until he heard: "Where the bloody hell have you been! Do you have any idea how worried we've been?"

Harry managed to pry himself out of his godson's unyielding grip and look up at his brother-in-law, whose face seemed to be a battleground for anger and concern.

"Yeah… Ginny told me. Really sorry about that, didn't mean to worry you." Harry explained sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding their eyes.

_"Didn't mean to worry you?" _Hermione repeated near-hysterically, eyes glinting before taking a deep breath. Harry inwardly cringed, knowing what was coming, in the typical Hermione fashion: "Didn't mean to _worry_ you!" she cried. "I think we were a _little_ more than worried, Harry, as we've been going out of minds, wondering if you're alright - and we looked for you everywhere and we tried so many times to contact you and we were so, _so _worried because _anything_ could have happened to you! You could have been captured, for all we knew, or lying unconscious in some remote ditch somewhere or maybe even-"

"_Hermione_!" Ginny cut in suddenly, effectively stopping her mid-rant, though more harshly then she meant to come across as she didn't really want to think about such things right now - or for that matter, _ever_.

Ginny sighed as her face softened somewhat at the look of mild reproach on her friend's face, the brief argument they'd had in Ginny's fifth year in which she'd defended her boyfriend against Hermione's lecture tugging at her mind, but she brushed it aside along with her annoyance. It was so much essayer to be calm with Harry at her side, giving her silent support, she mused. Though, right now, for once, it seemed, he needed hers. "He's just got home, Hermione, and he didn't go out to worry us. He feels guilty enough as it is" Harry nodded and shot her a grateful look. Her hand found his and gave it a quick squeeze.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances at the gesture but looked away quickly hiding their smiles, Hermione looking a bit sheepish. Whatever happened to Harry tonight, at least some good came out of it.

"Really though, where were you? What happened?" Teddy asked impatiently, eyeing his godfather up and down as though checking for injures.

"I'm fine, Teddy" Harry told him trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

"You didn't answer my question" Teddy reminded him sternly, no longer looking him over at least, but instead steadily meeting his gaze. If the situation had been different, Harry would have laughed at the ironic role-reversal. He sighed instead, shooting Ginny a look of desperation. She just returned the look with her own rather unhelpful but somewhat apologetic one.

"I, er, met someone I know at the market and well...I...we got into an argument I guess" he explained awkwardly his eyes fixated on a rather interesting crack in the wall to the left of Hermione.

"With who?" Ron asked, frowning as Teddy asked at the same time: "About what?"

Harry looked between his brother in law and his in-every-thing-but-blood son. He didn't really want to go into the details of his uncle's taunts and so went for the lesser of two evils, turning to Ron.

"My uncle." It was as if the lights in everyone eyes had all been dimmed at once.

"Your uncle? Are you alright?" Ron tensed, eyeing Harry up, picking up where Teddy had left off. He thought back to the few unfortunate times he had seen Harry's uncle, and that, along with what little his friend had told him - not to mention what he had seen on his 'visit' to Harry's house in second year - was all enough to detest the man greatly.

"I'm fine! _Really_."

"What did you argue about?" Hermione piped up again and Teddy nodded, slightly annoyed that his question hadn't already been answered. Harry moved over to the wall where the coats were hung, taking his off as he talked.

"I'd rather not talk about it. Look, I'm _really_ sorry I worried you, really, I am, but do you think I could just..." he trailed of uncomfortably shooting a wistful glance at the kitchen door. Hermione opened her mouth to say something along the lines of him not getting off that easily, but caught a look from Ginny and changed her mind.

"_Sure_. We can talk in the morning." Ron said, instead giving his friend a meaningful look to which Harry sighed, knowing his friends would get it out of him sooner or later. Choosing later, he made to walk towards the door, shooting Teddy an apologetic glance on the way, before stopping. Without pausing to think about it, he turned on his heel, walked up to Ginny, and, pulling her into his embrace, kissed her on the cheek and whispered: "Good night love". Ginny blushed at the simple pleasure of having her husband pinning her arms down in a friendlier situation for once.

"Goodnight"

Harry gave her a small smile and left, ignoring his friends knowing looks and smirks.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Ginny snapped out of her dreamy state as three pairs of eyes found her, their owners voicing as one. "What happened?"

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><p><em>(Harry's POV, 1st person)<em>

The stairs creaked softly under my feet as I made my way up the stairs, gripping onto the banister for support. Really, I do feel drained. And stupid, ever so stupid. Why did I have to make everyone, my _family_, worry like that? I'm certainly dreading the morning. Telling Ginny was one thing, but the others? I don't know. Perhaps Ron would understand, he had seen what it had been like for me at the Dursley's more than the rest. But that's _over_ now! _So long ago_. Why's it affecting me now? I thought I was over it. I should be, now I have a _home_: now that I'm _loved_, for crying out loud! I'm so lucky, ever so lucky. Maybe now, things won't be so bad between me and Ginny. I fell as if a huge weight has been lifted off of me, all my doubts concerning her gone.

There's a huge hole in my wall that my Uncle all but smashed to pieces, and though it seems a whole lot smaller now, I'm not going to pretend that it's all fixed. It going to take work, but now I'm determined. I have so much to make up for, and not just to Ginny. I step on to the landing and walk passed my door. Without even thinking about it, I stop outside the room of my eldest son and I place an ear to the door. I smile to myself as I hear gentle snoring. James had always been such a deep sleeper, just like his uncle Ron. I know James will be the angriest tomorrow, when he sees me.

What did Ginny tell them exactly? I feel a lump in my throat and a slight prickle of fear - they must have known I was coming back, right? But then again, how could they? Even _I_ didn't know whether I was coming home or not. I feel hot shame wash over me. How could I have even contemplated such a thing? _So, so much to make up for._ Even if they were to be better off without me, would _I_ have been? Would _I_ have survived without _them?_ _No_.

I move along to Lily's room and once again place my ear to the door. _Silence._ I know I shouldn't panic. Lily's as deep a sleeper as her brother, only she would sleep completely silently. No longer being able to rest the urge, I open the door a crack.

A dim light falls upon my daughter's sleeping face, a look of slight distress etched into her beautiful features as she dreams. I wonder what she's thinking about, and I open the door wider. She's curled up in a tight ball, like a cat, the resemblance to her mother more striking than ever, and her blanket lays discarded on the floor. I stepped into the room, trying to keep as quite as possible and picked up the blanket before draping it over my youngest's sleeping form. I wrap it around her tightly, restraining myself from picking her up all together and holding her close. I feel like crying at the thought of how close I came to leaving such a precious thing to me. I kneel down by her bedside and stroke her flaming hair, brushing it out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. I brush my lips against her cheek and whisper,

"_I'm so sorry love. I'm here now. I'm never going to leave you, not ever. I love you"_ I don't know whether it's my imagination, but at my words, Lily's sweet face seems to relax slightly. I get up and tiptoe out of the room, closing the door soundlessly behind me. I don't look back; I know I won't be able to stop myself going back and sleeping on the floor, just to be close to her. I deserve to sleep on the floor. I don't deserve such- **no!** I'm doing it again! The doubts, the pessimism - that's what got me into this mess in the first place. But how do I make it stop? How do I make my uncle's voice go away? How do I stop believing all the things he's worn into me both in the car park and my whole childhood?

I know I have to, for my family's sake if not mine. I can't just run away again. As if to dig the metaphorical knife in deeper, the third door I approach reveals a sniffing sound that can only belong to my second son, Albus. I open the door a crack, just as I did with Lily's, though the sight is more heartbreaking. I didn't even hesitate this time, nor bother to try not to wake him. He already is. I swiftly move over to his bed and pull his crying form into me. He stiffens, obviously caught by surprise. I hold him tight, I never want to let go. He looks up at me, eyes wide, and he grins.

"You didn't leave!" It scarcely a whisper but there's so much joy in his voice and I feel my heart shatter, just simply fall to pieces. I pull him in closer, unable to look at his eyes, so sweet, so innocent. If only he knew how close, just how close I came, and it's killing me know, because he deserves better. "You alright dad?" I can hear the concern in his voice, twisting the smashed pieces to pulp. "What happened? Where were you?" I can hear the betrayal now, I knew it would come, but I can't break down this time, not again, not in front of my kid. I loosen my grip on him so I can look at him properly. I force a smile.

"Oh, Al, I'm so sorry. I never meant to worry you or scare you, and no, I didn't leave, I'm back now." I place a hand under his chin and look into his eyes. It was so hard before but now I can't look away. "Al, I want you to listen to me." He nods. "I will never _ever_ leave you. _Never_. Or your brother or sister or mother. I will _never_ leave you. _I love you_" It's amazing how simple it is. A moment ago I had no idea what was going on, I wasn't sure of a single thing, but this… now I'm looking into his eyes, and he believes me, there's trust in his eyes as he looks at me, and so much love. I've never been surer about anything in my life. _I love my family._

"I love you too Dad" _And they love me._ What more is there to it, really? My son drifts asleep in my arms, and I feel my eyelids drooping too. I'm home.

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><p><em>(Ginny's POV, 1st person)<em>

"Look guys, it's really not for me to say." I tell my audience in what I hope is a tone that will bring further questioning to a close.

"I'm just so glad to see you guys...well-" Hermione paused awkwardly, probably thinking of a subtle way to put 'not yelling at each other, throwing stuff, constantly bickering or ignoring each other', "-are getting along better now". I can't help my small smile, remembering how he had suddenly turned around and hugged me. I knew why he had done it, to try and make up for tonight, to show that it could still work. And it will. We're going to be alright. I can just feel it. It's not going to be easy, but we're going to have each other.

But then I can help remembering the deadened look in his eyes as he talked of all the things his uncle had said and his confession of the voice in the back of his mind. I just want to reach into his mind and yank it out of him. He needs to stop doubting himself all the time. Stop thinking of himself as less than everyone else. I swear if I see his uncle again...

I had told Harry, as we walked a while before apperating, of how I'd seen his uncle, drunk as anything. That man had revolted me, and that was when I didn't even know who he was. I think that was what really brought Harry back,

"_Look at what he's become Harry! Nothing but a low life drunk. All alone, just shouting at the world, blaming everyone but himself. And look at you. You have a family, a life, you're not bitter, you're not angry, after everything you've been through, you didn't turn against the world - you let it in. You've raised a family in it, and you only blame yourself, even though you've done nothing wrong. When I saw him, I felt disgusted, Harry - you make me __**proud**__. _

He'd smiled the whole way home.

"I just hope it lasts" I muttered, more to myself than anything, but Ron had heard me.

"It better do, all that yelling was giving me a headache"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, but my brother ignored her and winked at me. I took my coat of and hung it on the hanger, next to Harry's.

"He _is _ok, though, isn't he?" Teddy asked anxiously.

"He's fine, Ted. Perhaps a little shaken up. He really got to him." I shrugged not really knowing what to say. "He was drunk"

"His uncle?" Hermione frowned disapprovingly. I shot her a slight exasperated look,

"Well, can you really see Harry getting drunk?" The four of us shared a smile. Perhaps when we were younger, after the war, but never now. He was far too responsible for that.

"Hang about, if they were arguing at the market, then why wasn't he there when you when to find him?" Ron questioned, obvious concern for his friend in his voice.

"He left." They didn't need to know that he had ran, that was up to Harry if he wanted to tell them. "Went to Braxton. Remember that little place with all the gravel and pebbles by that long wall along the sea?" I see Ron's eyes widened for a second before masking his surprise and I can't help but wonder if he was thinking what I had been when I had first seen Harry just sitting alone on the wall.

Perhaps he even knows why Harry is so drawn to the place. Harry shares a hell of a lot with Ron, probably even more than me. I used to resent that. Used to hate the way the three of them, 'The Golden Trio', could work together in effortless perfection, always reading each other's minds, inseparable. How they know what the other is thinking by a simple hand gesture. I'm not now, though, because I know that Harry and I have something they can never achieve as a trio. Because, like Ron and Hermione do, we have our own connection. Our own silent gestures, our own inside jokes, our own memories together. Just like the three of them will always be a team, we will be as well and I'll never be jealous of such a wonderful and powerful friendship that I have no right in. "I think I'll call it a night" I tell them before making my way up the stairs, knowing that I have a part of Harry, as he does of me, that they'll never have.

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><p><em>(Harry's POV, 1st person)<em>

Hermione and Ron had taken it a lot better than I hoped. Perhaps Ginny talked to them or something. She had nudged me awake pretty late in the morning, and I'd left quietly as not to wake Albus. I don't know who needed the other more last night, me or my son. I am so lucky he doesn't hate me. The second I had stepped into the kitchen I'd been cornered by Ron.

Ginny had told him about me going to Braxton so I can't really blame him for being both anxious and angry, but I'd insisted that I had only needed to clear my head, that I was confused and lost, that I'd never thought about doing anything like..._that_. I have no idea what was so luring about that place, but I'm not the only one who has once felt its pull.

George has also. Three weeks after the battle, both of us were barely able to cope having lost so much. For George, a part of him was gone completely. It's obvious that he still feels that way, but Angelina had helped pull him together. He had her, and I had had Ginny - still do - but we had also had each other and that night we had ended up talking each other out of it, falling back off the wall, laughing and crying simultaneously. We had sworn never to tell another soul; except I had had to tell Ron, and George had accepted that. I doubt he kept the promise either.

Hermione had been sympathetic after lecturing me for doubting my family's love and for once I accepted the lecture, knowing I deserved it, though it was better when we moved on to cursing my uncle out.

Ron clapped me shoulder and nodded behind me. I turned to see James leaning in the door way, looking at me. His face is expressionless. I hate that he's gotten good at doing that. I blame Teddy giving him tips. Speaking of which, I wonder if he stayed over or went back to his apartment. I hope he stayed. It's been ages since I've spent time with him. Hermione got up, hitting Ron on the shoulder and giving him a pointed look. I resisted and eye roll as he looked from me to James and made an 'oh!' face before leaving with Hermione.

"You're back then." I tried not to wince to at the cool age to my son's voice. Is this how he feels before I tell him off for something? Probably. I nod, not really sure what else to do.

He moves away from the door frame and over to the bread bin, taking out a slice of bread and popping it into the toaster. I could practically feel the tension between us. Perhaps I should say something, but what? 'I'm sorry' seems a bit pointless. There's no need, as he speaks again,

"He was scared, you know - Albus, that is. Thought you'd left us" I opened my mouth to say something, but what I don't know. To protest? But he cuts me off. "I told him not to be daft. That you wouldn't do that"

"I wouldn't" I'm sure of that now and I hope the certainty shows in my voice. I'm grateful though, that James told him that, but had he believed it or had he just been trying to comfort his brother? James just nodded absentmindedly, moving over to the fridge to take out some butter.

"He asked me where you were if you hadn't left. I couldn't answer that one" He puts the butter down on the counter before turning round suddenly.

"Where were you?" I tried not to wince again. I don't know what's worse, the expressionless voice in which he had been speaking or the betrayal that was now shining in his eyes. All I want to do is pull him into a huge hug, but I know he won't be as receptive as Albus had been. James had always been the trickiest, the most stubborn, the most rebellious, the one that I've haven't always seen eye-to-eye with. Not that I'm saying I love him any less and nobody will ever hear me say it. I see so much of Ginny in him. Her fiery determination, her wilfulness, her smile, her eyes…

"Braxton," I tell him, finally shaking myself out of my thoughts.

"And you couldn't have told us that?"

"I wasn't entirely thinking straight at the time, James"

James just snorted, unsatisfied, and turned to the toaster as it emitted the bread with a pop.

"I didn't mean to worry you," I try again, he ignores me. I sigh and turn to leave, knowing it's hopeless. I don't blame him for being mad, and who am I to persuade him not to be? I shouldn't have disappeared like that.

"Oh, hell to it" I hear James mutter, dropping the knife with a clink. I turn back and feel something collide with me suddenly. "Never do that again, _ever!_" I can't help but grin as I look down at my son hugging me tightly.

"_I won't. I promise_"

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><p><em>(Ginny's POV, 1st person)<em>

I stifled a yawn as I made my way down the stairs, nearly running into James coming up.

"Morning mum!" He calls cheerfully as he passes me, grinning. _That's odd. _He was horribly moody when I had woken him, and James had never been a morning person. Still, his cheerfulness is infectious. I grin to myself, knowing that James had just come from talking to his dad. It's such a relief that I'm not going to go through the day having James and Harry not talking to each other. But then again, James could never be mad at his dad for long - nobody can, really.

I try not to run down the stairs or look too eager as I walk into the kitchen. It had been horrible waking up without him beside me. For a terrible moment I had thought that I had never found him, that he was gone, that he had left, but then I remembered the sweet scene of him sleeping in Albus's bed, our son wrapped up in his arms.

"Morning love!" He grins at me as I go over to the cupboard to pull out some cereal. It was strange how Harry insisted that James had my smile yet their grins were uncannily identical.

I smiled softly as I feel my husband's arms wrap around my waist. I can feel his warm breath on my neck, making me tingle. I relaxed into him, swaying with him to the rhythm of a soundless song I don't recognise. Probably one of those old Muggle songs he's so fond of. I looked at him, question posed on my lips before he starts to hum. I still can't recognise the song but it sounds so familiar somehow, like a half-forgotten trinket kept in a box at the bottom of my wardrobe. But I like it, whatever it is, because I know it's meant for me. Harry pauses in his humming to kiss my neck lightly. He pulls me in closer humming once more but this time I could pick out murmurs of words,

"_Not always easy... life can be deceiving_," I felt the words vibrate through me, tingle through my veins. I looked up at him, his green eyes meeting mine. I can see nothing but love there, though perhaps a twinge of sadness. I want to ask him what's wrong but I find I can't interrupt the humming, it's just so _hypnotising_. I suppose I should stop staring into his eyes, but I can't do that either. I turn in his warm arms, let him pull me in and I rest my head on his shoulder feeling the soft cotton of his Weasley jumper against my cheek, swaying all the while. I suppose I could feel silly; half-dancing, half-standing in the middle of our kitchen, listening to my husband's humming - but I don't. I just feel so calm, like we were on our own little island, an isolated bubble that belongs only to us, swaying to a song that's meant for us. He smiles as though reading my mind and leans down to kiss me. He begins to hum again, against my lips, and I pull away, giggling.

I've the missed moments like this so much. Little, silly moments, _our_ moments. _His_ moments. I love the moments he makes, the little things he does, that had stopped when we had been so preoccupied with arguing, work and more arguing. Things like always making sure his toothbrush is next to mine, like leaving lavender on my pillow when I have a deadline coming up and would be too stressed to sleep properly, or putting vanilla in my coffee when I'm sad, because he _always_ knows when I'm sad… or randomly humming Muggle tunes to me.

I feel his hand find mine, mine fitting in his perfectly. He lifts it to his lips and kisses it gently, I giggle again before placing my hand on his cheek. He turns his head and plants a sneaky kiss on the palm of my hand before turning back to me, a cheeky grin on his handsome face. I can feel his cheek vibrating as he hums softly once more and having heard it for a while now I begin to hum too. I see his eyes light up, happy at the accompaniment, and I can tell were on the chorus though the words are still on the tip of my tongue, unable to burst free, but there's no need, he takes the words from my mouth, and sings what I have been thinking for so long now,

"_Yeah, it's always better when we're together, MMM, We're somewhere in-between together Well, it's always better when we're together, Yeah, it's always better when we're together, MmMMmm MmMMm MmMMm..._"

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><p><strong>Please Review! Sorry to thoughts who expected more, but I only planed 4 chapters, and with Birthdays, WAYTTH?, and one-shots creeping through the cracks I'd rather do a good short piece of work that drag it out and get distracted, and promise to continue it, then don't get back to it for a mouth and well I'm happy with it and as J.K herself said, ultimately you've got to please yourself first, so I hope you liked it none the less! Thank you anyone who reviewed, alerted or faved! It means so much to me! Please let me know what you think of it, either this chapter or as a whole.<strong>

**Thanks pryo for pointing it out to me, I was half-dead when I put it up.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the song 'We're Better Together' by Jack Johnson.**

**Just to clear things up: Braxton as far as I know is not a real place if it is it's not based on it, Kingsley and that have been told he's back encase your worried he's still out there looking :-), Hugo and Roes are upstairs next to Al's room and Teddy did stay over. **_**Phew**_**. **

_Beta's note: Uh, I don't want to make this a regular thing, jumping in on Ami's A/N Glory. BUT, there is something you should know. This message is being typed at 22:17pm. Over the next 3-6 hours, everything sent to me will be betaed, wrapped up, and sent back all shiny to the wonderful AmiliaPadfoot. I have the easy job. Ami has to work her little socks off to get this chapter from her rural computer to your greedy eyeballs. Seriously. Show some gratitude and REVIEW!_

**Hehehe thanks Drammy, no pressure people :-)**


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